


Noises (I Hear in My Head)

by westandvigilant



Series: Astronomy in Reverse [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And how, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, background klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-09-29 10:25:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westandvigilant/pseuds/westandvigilant
Summary: She fought a man with his face. He now flies with a Galran prince at her behest. How were they to ever make this right?A collection of drabbles based on "Things You Said" prompts. Rating may change based on new chapters.Set in a wibbly time space where Shiro has returned, Kuron is gone, and Lotor has not turned yet.





	1. a countdown begins

**Author's Note:**

> I. things you said at 1am
> 
> Allura stuggles with a returned Shiro ignoring her a gala. But there is champagne and Lotor.

She wanted him to look uncomfortable. She wanted to look across the dark room with the elegant faces to see him shuffling his feet. She wanted to see him shrug off a conversation. Or maybe even, heavens forbid, a yawn from the Black Paladin.

Her Black Paladin.

Allura shook her head and gulped down an entire glass of champagne. Shiro was not _Her_ Black Paladin. He was _The_ Black Paladin. He answered to the galaxy. And if someone in that galaxy, say the heir to throne of the Cseene people, beseeched the Black Paladin to escort them to a gala, they could.

And Allura couldn’t be upset, she thought as the champagne bubbles tickled her nose. So she simply wouldn’t be upset about Shiro’s beautiful, intelligent date and she certainly wouldn’t be upset about the glint of light off his metallic wrist as he extended his hand in an offer to dance.

No, Allura wasn’t going to be upset. She was going to have fun.

\---

_The prospect of the Diplomat’s Gala did not excite Allura._

_When Coran asked her who should be her escort, she shrugged. Claimed that she would not be requiring an escort. That she would attend the gala with her Paladins. A united front._

_And then, if she spent too much time with the leader of Voltron. If she wanted to see what he was like when he let loose, when he had fun… Well then, no one would be truly the wiser._

\---

“Pretty ladies shouldn’t spend so much time alone.”

Allura didn’t need to turn to know that she would find Lance behind her.

And it was indeed, tall and gangly Lance with a stunning blue suit and an arched eyebrow.

“I’m hardly alone,” Allura smiled. She swept a hand to gesture at the dancefloor, the shimmery fabric of her split sleeves trailing behind in a grand show. Perfectly synchronized couples moved in and out of shards of periwinkle light cascading from the vaulted ceiling “One can never be alone around so many.”

Lance’s smile dimmed for just a moment. “I don’t know if that’s true…” Allura watched him for a moment, the faraway distance in his eyes. A hurt that he couldn’t hide for the moment.

“Were you going to ask me to dance, Lance?”

The Blue Paladin sputtered in a spectacularly undignified manner. He quickly smoothed down his pants to regain composure of himself. “Oooh,” he exhaled, scratching at the back of his head. “Well, uh - ahem - I don’t know if you could keep up with me, Princess.” Allura could have counted every one of his teeth in the grin that followed.

Allura giggled. A waiter walking by accepted her now empty champagne flute. “Come now,” she grabbed Lance’s hand, “let me show you.”

More sputtering ensued as she wheeled him onto the dancefloor. He couldn’t form any actual words as she showed him where to place his hand on the small of her back, but he did turn a magnificent shade of red. His eyes stayed trained on his feet while she watched the effort of moving with the music pass over his features.

“Stay on the balls of your feet,” Allura coached.

“Huh?” He squeaked.

She looked down to see his feet glomping to and fro, just as she assumed she would. “The balls of your feet. Stay on them instead of stomping flat footed onto the ground with each step.”

Lance took her advice, and they began to sway with a modicum of grace. “Oooh,” he mused with a laugh. “That works -”

“Now. We aren’t supposed to look down either, that’s when you-”

When she looked up she stopped, completely. Lance crashed into her shoulder, her knees buckling slightly with the force. His forearm tightened against her and held her upright. The couples whorling around them continued on, almost making her sick.

“Mess up, huh?” He chuckled.

But Allura was looking over his shoulder, entranced as Shiro danced with Szeen just feet away. They moved together so nicely, their bodies nearly flush, the Princess’s small form tucked comfortably into his broad chest.

Allura’s heart ached. Lance finally met her gaze. He nodded, recognizing something in the distance he found there.

\---

_His face had turned bright red at the invitation. The translucent sheet of paper looked so frail in his large hands. The messenger bowed their head in waiting for Shiro’s response._

_He looked at Allura with lost eyes and she nodded, a soft smile uplifting the corners of her lips._

_Crimson continued to stain his cheeks while she assured him that yes, this was a great honor to be chosen to escort High Princess Szeen of the Csariah to the Diplomats Gala._

_He accepted as he would always accept, if was for the good of the cause._

\---

Allura had found Lotor exceptionally easy to talk to after she understood his ways. The rest of the galaxy, not so much. But, he was easy to find, all alone on the magnificently carved balcony. His regal figure cut nicely through the white-blue light flooding from the ballroom into the night, all broad shoulders and lean hips. Though his back was to the entry, he turned to watch her approach.

“Champagne, Lotor?” Allura greeted, handing him the delicately stemmed crystal.

“Always.” He smiled his wolf smile, a smile that she had almost begun to find charming. He took a sip, she took a gulp.

His eyes flicked down her dress. “I didn’t think I would find you running away from the party.”

Allura made a show of gasping, bringing her free hand to the hollow of her throat. “Why, Lotor! I would never do such a thing. How undiplomatic.”

“Ah,” he smirked as he leaned against the railing. “I know better than to ever suggest such a thing to you, Princess.”

One last look out to the ballroom and Allura saw the Black Paladin, head tipped back in a laugh. Szeen placed a dainty hand on his forearm and Allura’s throat went dry. He wasn’t just comfortable. He was having fun.

Another gulp. Allura joined Lotor against the railing, standing close enough that she could feel the heat of standing shoulder to shoulder with the heir to the Galran throne. And he regarded her with a not-too-subtle flick of the eyes.

“Well, then you’re a smarter man than you seem.”

Lotor chuckled as Allura drained her glass with another gulp.

“Another glass, Princess?”

\---

_In the hangar they stood. The other Paladins milled about. Keith fought with his suit. Pidge and Hunk chased Lance while making kissy faces._

_They did not notice when Shiro entered. But she did._

_The elevator opened as he was adjusting his cufflinks. His formal suit was jet black, the cut of his lapelless jacket brushing the tops of his knees. The undershirt was tight and high in the collar with deep purple accents. His wild silver locks were brushed neatly to the side. Tall boots completed the dashing look._

_He stopped for a moment, face impassable as stone._

_Allura clasped her hands in an attempt to stay her breathing as he regarded her. A blush crept to her cheeks when his eyes swept over her exposed collar bones, stopping just before the plunging neckline of her dress. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the rest curling down her back in waves._

_She watched through her eyelashes as he inhaled through his nose. Shiro smoothed down his jacket and nodded._

_He strode past her to his shuttle, voice clear and strong._

_“I’m going to be late.”_

\---

The night ticked away as Allura drank champagne and teased Lotor. There were things about her that he understood. Things about growing up royalty with which he could relate. Things that had separated her from her companions.

They stayed leaning against the railing, space closing between them as the chill in the atmosphere drove them closer together. She didn’t know quite how or when, but eventually she found the warm weight of his arm over her shoulders.

And just like that, for vargas, they laughed and drank and talked and drank, sharing glass after glass while the gala dwindled inside.

“Allura?”

She did not have to look toward the archway to know who stood there in waiting. Every syllable of her name in that voice had been seared into her memory. Every time he had beseeched her aid in combat. Every time he had screamed her name in pain. Every time he had whispered it, like a hope he wanted so desperately to save.

“Shiro!” She greeted, unable to hide the slur in her speech.

He stepped into the dark of the balcony, silver hair glinting in the ink black surrounding them. His eyes searched the area, hardening every so slightly when he noticed that Allura and Lotor were quite alone.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “We were all getting ready to head back to the ship.”

Lotor’s arm tightened around her shoulder. “Thank you, but I think I can manage to escort our lovely Princess back when we’re ready.”

She peeked up to see that same lost look on Shiro’s face, but this time it seemed sharper. More pointed. Something deep and dark purred in her chest. With that humming through her, she melted back into Lotor’s chest.

“Is that what you want, Allura?” And like that, his face was marble once again. Unreadable. A commander’s visage built to complete his duties and nothing else.

 _I don’t want to leave_ , she wanted to yell. _I want to have fun._

But Allura didn’t do that. She smiled. Soft and sweet. “Yes, I am fine, Shiro. Thank you.”

He turned to leave, the blue lights from the ballroom sliding over his silhouette. But he paused, just for a moment, placing his metal hand against the archway.

“Something else on your mind?” Lotor chided.

Shiro’s shoulders stiffened and bristled. But when he turned, there was something else in his eyes. A plea. A plea that she hadn’t seen since that night on the bridge when they were trying so desperately to escape Zarkon, but he begged her so tenderly to take care of herself.

“You look very beautiful tonight, Princess. I’ve been meaning to tell you that,” he said. A fact. Nothing more. He tapped his hand against the archway and and left, lost in the crowd as they trickled from the gala.

And Allura was alone. Again. And Lotor was there and she was alone.


	2. underneath my glass house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> II. things you said through your teeth
> 
> Allura invites Shiro to spar. Like old times. But emotions run high and things get out of hand.

Shiro strode into the sparring room, completely unable to hide his grin.   
  
Allura was there already, wrapping her wrists as she waited for him. She returned the smile when she saw him enter, a heady excitement flooding the room.   
  
“You ready?” She asked as she bent down to pick something up.   
  
“More than ready, Princess.” Shiro laughed. “It’s been awhile.”   
  
He didn’t see her face as she replied. It had to be some sort of an agreement, he assumed. When she stood up, she tossed something at him so quickly that he had to catch it before he could look at it.   
  
“A bo staff?” He wondered aloud, turning over the wood in his hands.   
  
“Yes,” she affirmed. She stood her bo staff vertically on the ground, then hooked her leg around it for balance. With one foot on the ground and the other deftly crooked around the weapon, she tied up her long flowing hair into an uncharacteristically messy bun. Shiro ignored the curve of her neck.   
  
“A problem?” She asked, scooping up her staff and circling him with a smile.   
  
“No, ma’am.” Shiro stepped backwards to follow her motion around him. “Just seems a bit, I don’t know… Archaic for your people.”   
  
“Ah, but I asked you down here to learn how humans fight, remember?”   
  
“Right.” He said like he didn’t remember exactly what she looked like the first time she asked him to spar. Like he had forgotten that the smirk on her lips and tendril of hair over her left eye.   
  
“Right.” Allura echoed. “So think fast.”   
  
Allura struck out with the staff, sweeping Shiro’s legs out from under him before he could blink. He crashed to the ground with an ungraceful thud. A tick later and Allura had her bo staff under Shiro’s jaw, tipping his face up toward her.   
  
“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Shiro?” She chuckled. “Or are you ready to yield?” Her nose scrunched as she teased him and his heart began to hammer into his chest     
  
One careful motion and Shiro had grabbed Allura’s staff and shucked it behind him, using the forward motion to propel himself up and onto his feet. He turned on a dime, just in time to face Allura as she sprinted at him.   
  
And then she was on him, trading blows with precision and purpose. Allura had always been stronger by far, but he was more strategic. She always seemed to be surprised the he could be both strong and quick. It was something that he exploited at every step.   
  
If she was swinging the staff over head, he was sliding out beneath it. If she was trying to sweep his legs, he was dodging.   
  
She tried to direct one of his blows to the left, but he had already whipped the end around to smack against her side.   
  
God, had he missed this.   
  
Everyone seemed to coddle him since they pulled him from the astral plane. But he was just as flesh and blood as they were. As she was.   
  
Shiro rolled out of her range. “Think you’ll land a blow, Princess?”   
  
“Cocky.” Allura chided. “Doesn’t look good on you, Paladin.” She planted her feet hard, practically begging him to take out her knees.   
  
Shiro advanced to the right, but she was there to meet him. A trap. She grabbed his staff and yanked it down, striking a bare foot into his jaw with a skillful hook kick. Shiro skidded across the floor.   
  
The shock of Allura hitting him in the face stung more than it hurt. He shook it off and grinned as he stood up.    
  
"So we're playing that way, huh?"   
  
Allura blinked innocently at him before giggling. "Are you up for it?"   
  
He rolled his neck by way of response. An actual spar? He had been waiting for a real spar in this room for years. No more coddling, no more caution because of his arm. And to do it with Allura? He couldn't have been more game.   
  
Shiro launched at Allura again, a misguided move by his renewed vigor. She quickly stepped to the side and let him barrel by her. Their skin slapped together as she hooked under his arm, preparing to use his momentum to launch him over her back and onto the ground.    
  
Instead, he was able to wrap an ankle around her calf and stay the motion. He drew his staff around and jabbed it into… Well, where a kidney should be. Her hiss let him know that he at least hit something important.   
  
Which a deep grunt, Allura began to wrench him over her shoulder by pure force of will. Slowly. Centimeter by centimeter, his foot hold slipped and he was dumped over her head. He felt every muscle of her back as he was drug over it. 

God, she was strong. 

He landed on his stomach, his chin soon to follow. The staff fumbled from his hands. The stars hadn’t even begun to clear from his vision and Allura had landed on him. She straddled his lower back on her knees, threading her staff around his throat with one hand. Just one hand. Ever so slowly, she pulled him up until his back arched and his ear was right next to her lips.

“Care to yield now?”

Shiro’s skin lit aflame. The cool breeze of her breath against his ear died against the pure heat that had just ignited. They were so near. He was so close to her, for the first time in such a long time. 

He stretched out, fingers just barely brushing his staff. “Not just yet,” he rasped, a lopsided smile strung over his lips. His eyes shifted toward the unsecured left side of her staff. “Who's cocky now?”

In a snap, his hand darted out and snatched up his staff. One hand on each end, he wove the staff between her weapon and his shoulder. He forced it against her staff and muscled it downward, away from his throat.

Allura quickly corrected her mistake and grabbed the unguarded end that Shiro was trying to exploit with an underhand grip. 

A one on one contest began. Shiro's strength against Allura's strength. He pushed. She pulled. He was keenly aware of her thighs against his hip bones. Her breasts against his back.

In a mess of wood and fingernails, her hasty opened and the staff slipped between her fingers. A mistake she was unable to correct. Shiro slammed their staffs into the ground as Allura gasped at the loss. She rolled off to the side and retrieved her staff as Shiro leapt to his feet.   
  
Staff ready. Feet moving. He began to circle her as Allura stood in the middle of the room. Her smirk was a thing of beauty. They crashed the tips of their staffs together, each using the pressure to test the other's movement.   
  
There was something different in her stance. She was planted again, pitched forward and squared; poised headlong into the fight. Offense with barely a chance of defense. Brash. Bold. Galran. His brain knew it in an instant.   
  
“That's new. Taking lessons from Lotor?”   
  
The sneer in his voice was involuntary, but not lost on Allura. Her eyes darkened. She catapulted forward with a new bevy of attacks, each one quicker and stronger than the last. Suddenly he was pinned against the wall and her elbow was crashing against his cheekbone.   
  
He was able to shrug her off with brute force, rounding off his shoulders and barreling into her until she dropped to the floor. She rolled off, unperturbed and bounced up into her new Galran stance.   
  
“He’s taught me a few things.”   
  
Something in those words prickled along Shiro’s skin. They set him on the edge of something that didn’t have the time to discern. An image flooded his mind of Lotor’s hands on her waist, squaring her hips until her ass rested on his thigh.   
  
It took him by surprise. And Allura used the hesitation to crash her staff fully into his kneecaps. Once again, he found the blunt end of Allura’s staff being pressed into his jugular as he knelt on the floor. But when he looked up, he didn’t see the same Princess looking down at him. Her eyes were hard, a fire behind them screaming that she had something to prove.   
  
“Yield?”   
  
Shiro took a deep breath and pushed down his emotions to clear his head.   
  
“No,” he answered and like lightning he grabbed her staff again. This time, he slammed it straight into the ground. Allura’s body followed with a snap, landing on her stomach with a wince and a grunt.   
  
Shiro had abandoned his own staff in favor of his hands. Twisting his legs around her ankle, he methodically applied an ankle lock. He angled his hips for a slight amount of pressure and grinned triumphantly.   
  
“Yield?”   
  
He forgot about her staff. Her answer was to shove the end of it into his sternum and push. Between the sweat and the shock, he fumbled his lock and she wriggled free. Using the leverage from the staff against his chest, she pushed his back into the ground.   
  
She was very nearly straddling him when she brought her forearm down across his face. Stars exploded into his mind and blood blossomed in his mouth.   
  
But she forgot his legs again. He brought his legs up and wrapped them around her torso. Then it was the slap of skin against the mats and hands scrambling for purchase. Her hair came undone, adding further chaos to the mess. The sweat and the heat between them made it a nasty contest of might and determination. Each struggling come out on top.   
  
Eventually, Shiro had muscled Allura to the ground and swung his legs around to straddle her. Sweat and the heat of skin. Fingernails gripping and fabric slipping. Her emotions were getting the better of her.   
  
“Yield,” he grunted.   
  
“No,” she replied. It was accompanied by another swing of the bo staff at his head. Yet this time he had not forgotten it. He caught it, but her grip was set. All he could do was grab the other end with his metal hand and bring it down toward her throat.   
  
It bore down slowly, her strength against his. But Shiro had the leverage. He had the upper hand. It was obvious. It was inevitable.   
  
“Yield.” This time it was a command.   
  
“No.” Curt. Succinct.   
  
Allura struggled under the staff, her hips bucking under his thighs. Her eyes were screwed shut. Shiro was left with no other option than choke her out if she did not yield. Shiro applied more pressure, bearing down with everything he had. His face was mere centimeters from her own, their noses nearly touching. Sweat dripped from his brow into the waves of her untied hair scattered on the floor. This was her last chance.   
  
“Give up, Allura.”   
  
She bared her teeth, craning her neck until her throat was crushed against the wood.   
  
“No,” she ground out.   
  
“Why,” he demanded.   
  
Her eyes were wild. Her teeth were clenched.   
  
“You. Hurt. Me”   
  
Each word was a blow. Every syllable sounded like a meat grinder, seeping out through her gritted teeth. It knocked the wind right out of him. He let the bo staff drop to her chest as he sat back on his heels. Allura slid out from under him with a painful cough.   
  
He looked at her, red faced and panting, a hand drawn reflexively to her throat. But physically, she seemed unscathed. This was a sparring match. Usually they didn't actually lay hands on each other, but she had... Could he have hurt her? She could have broken him in two if it was necessary, easily. Couldn’t she?   
  
“Where?”   
  
The hand moved from her neck to right above her heart. “Here,” she breathed.   
  
Shiro let his own hands fall open at his knees, mouth hanging open, unable to comprehend her words.    
  
“How did I-” He shook his head, incredulous at her words. “How could I-”   
  
“Because you have to ask.” Her voice broke. Her face crumbled. She brought a hand to her mouth to muffle something that sounded very nearly like a sob.   
  
And he didn’t know how to respond. What to say. He could do nothing but sit there, dumbly, as she tried desperately not to fall apart.   
  
He watched her clench her fists. He watched her breath deeply, with just one last sob passing her lips. He watched her slowly push off the ground to stand.   
  
He tried to call her name, but she had already left.   
  
You hurt me, she had said.

You hurt me.


	3. unring this bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> III. things you said with clenched fists
> 
> An ambush on a new planet. Allura and Shiro are taken prisoner, but not without a few hurts along the way.

Vision came blurry and dark. Allura was unsure if her eyes were actually open. Then she blinked and she felt like she was spinning. Nothing for her eyes to focus on she groaned, arching her back in an agonizing throw. Pain throbbed out from her extremities and everything was dark.

A hand on her shoulder, cool against her searing skin. A calming voice repeated her name softly as a palm cupped her jaw.

“Allura, hey-” the figure leaned down, a shock of white hair melting into view. Finger tips slid into the matted hair at the nape of her neck. “Shhh, Allura, please,” he hushed.

Fusing her eyes shut again, a name fell from her lips like a hope:

“Shiro?”

The hand on her shoulder tightened. “Yeah, Allura. I’m here.” Her eyes fluttered open to see his face, brow knitted together with worry. He sat next to her, now leaning back in order to afford her some space to breathe. “Are you okay?”

Allura licked her lips and cracked a smile. “Well, I have been better.” Shiro snorted, not quite a chuckle. Something sadder. Another wave of pain flowed through her body and broke the moment.

The sound of ripping fabric found her ears. She was able to squint through the pain to see Shiro tear the sleeve off his undersuit. His skin glistened with sweat under the thin shaft of light pouring from the barred window over his shoulder.

Her lungs seized with panic.

“Where are we?” She choked out over her tightening throat.

The cord of his bicep pushed and pulled as he lifted her leg. A new shard of pain rushed through her body, nerves singing. “It’s okay,” he murmured. He quickly wrapped the fabric around her thigh. “It’s okay. You’re fine-”

_“You’re fine. You’re fine.” The words sound panicked and empty in his voice._

_But Allura couldn’t focus, her hand aching with the absence of her bayard Shots blazed over them as Shiro wrenched her body into an alleyway. She immediately slumped against the wall of a sandstone building, her leg unable to carry the weight of her body. Sweat carved tracks in the grime of Shiro’s face, his keen eyes darting to the dark corners of the alley._

_“Wait! Lotor!” Allura yelled over the chaos, quickly peering into the street for any sign of him._

_Then Shiro’s body flattened against hers, his arms raised up over their heads. She looked over in time to see the butt of a rifle drive into the side of Shiro’s head one time, two times, three…_

_He fell. Allura grabbed at his body, but with the sand and the sweat and the frenzy he slipped right through her fingers. He hit the ground and it all went black._

The room was so hot. So much hotter than it had been on the Aldrarian streets. “We were ambushed,” she managed to rasp out.

He nodded his head. “I didn’t get to see what happened to everyone. I didn’t see what happened to…”

“To Lotor.” Allura finished for him. She worked for enough saliva to clear her throat and closed her eyes. A new worry seeped into her bones. She hoped that he had been able to escape. The thoughts of what Galran sympathizers might do to an exiled Galran prince made her blood run cold.

“I didn’t see him get hit or captured, if that helps.” Shiro offered in a quiet voice, face turned toward the window. He clearly noticed the worry seeping through her words. The silhouette of his jaw tightened ever so slightly. “I tried yelling to see if I'd get an answer,” he continued, turning into profile in the feeble light. “I didn’t get any response. Not from anyone. They're... somewhere else. The bars hold, even against my hand.” He flexed his hand, eyes still fixed into the dark around them.

Another throb of pain radiated out from her wound, this time made dull by the tightness of Shiro’s dressing. Allura bit her lip, heart sinking at the thought of younger paladins out there somewhere, alone and scared.

Shiro’s gaze dropped to the floor, followed by a heavy sigh. It occurred to Allura that this thought was not lost on Shiro either.

“We’ll figure this out,” she offered in a comforting whisper.

“We always do,” he said.

And, there in the dark of a small prison cell, a modicum of comfort washed over Allura. The comfort that she wasn't alone. Her partner was here. Someone else to discuss and plan and execute. She wasn’t responsible for everything. Shiro would be there to help shoulder the load.

He was not cold. He was not indifferent. He was…

Alive.

“We always do,” she agreed.

Shiro turned to her, a small smile twitching across his lips and, for the first time since she awoke, Allura could see the right side of Shiro’s face. An angry gash sliced right above his eye, the area around it already puffing up purple and yellow. Dried blood cut a river down his cheek.

_She looked over in time to see the butt of a rifle drive into the side of Shiro’s head one time, two times, three…_

“Quiznak!” Allura exclaimed. “Shiro! You’re hurt!”

Shiro waved her off with a sheepish smile. “I don’t… It doesn’t hurt.” He ran a hand through his hair, sweat and grime causing it to slick back away from his face. In full view, it looked even worse. His eye would be swollen shut in a matter of doboshes. “I mean, I’m sure it looks worse than it is.”

Before she could stop herself, Allura reached out to wipe away the blood that had caked against his cheekbone. He watched her, his lips parted as she delicately hovered above the maimed skin awaiting his invitation.

And even the dark, she could feel it, that longing look. That pleading look. The one that he seemed to save for her and only her. Surrendering, he closed his eyes for her contact.

As soon as her fingertips hit his skin, he winced; he sucked air in through his teeth in a hiss and his hand darted out to catch her before the touch continued. His hand closed around her wrist so quickly, so tightly. His thumb fit perfectly into the palm of her hand.

“Don’t it…” His voice trailed off.

She curled her her fingers around his thumb, hanging on to their first tender contact in years.

“Hurts?” She chided.

With an amused snort his hand tightened against her wrist. “Yes.”

They locked eyes and it all rushed back. What it was like before. The companionship, the stolen glances, the mutual desperation for each other’s attention. The comfort of knowing that she was the other half of a pair that fit together like a puzzle. The knowledge that she was needed. The overwhelming sensation that she was wanted.

Before. Before he was no longer…

Alive.

Her throat was still so dry. She opened her mouth, but something stirred ever so quietly outside the door.

Shiro’s gaze hardened immediately. Allura gave him a validating nod and he slipped over to the door. As the footsteps grew louder, he flattened himself against the wall. His Galran hand cast a soft purple glow about the cell. Tension spiderwebbed through Allura’s chest in the silence.

As soon as the light dimmed with the figure of whoever had approached the door, Shiro’s hand had bolted through the bars and fastened around their neck. “Who are you?” He snarled, while a mess of white hair and purple skin slammed into the bars with a clang.

“Lotor!” Allura blurted out.

There was a scuffle, presumably Lotor trying to stay upright as Shiro twisted his hold on the Prince’s throat. The entire room blacked out when Lotor’s mass crashed back into the small window.

“Shiro,” Allura intoned. “Shiro, that’s Lotor.”

Another beat. The darkness continued. A growl and a grunt from Lotor as he was released with force. Shiro withdrew his arm just as quickly as he had struck out.

“Where are the others.” Shiro demanded, back strung tight with what Allura could only describe as hostility.

Lotor cleared his throat in deliberate nonchalance. He dangled a sparse keyring in front of the window with a flourish. “I believe that you mean to say ‘thank you.’”

“Oh, thank you, Lotor.” Allura beamed. “We are so relieved to see that you’re okay.”

He hummed with concentration, flipping through the keys to find the correct one. “The others are safe.” A pause as the lock made a promising set of metallic sounds. “The Blades of Mormora revealed themselves shortly after you two disappeared.”

Shiro finally turned away from the door. He whispered something that might have been Keith’s name, his eyebrows drawn together with thought.

A few more mechanical clicks and the door swung open. Light flooded the room as Lotor strode through the doorway. He brushed past Shiro and directly to Allura, dropping to his knees at her side. “Princess Allura,” he breathed. Lotor embraced her fully, sighing with relief as her arms wrapped around his back. “Are you hurt?”

He pulled back, eye scanning her face. He was so soley, intoxicatingly fixated on her that she forgot to answer. A few ticks trickled by and Shiro cleared his throat from the other side of the cell.

“She took a few shots to the leg.”

Concern bled into Lotor’s face, an apprehension so delicate on his elegant features. “Can you walk?”

Allura feigned a smile. The liability of her wound truly hit her for the first time. A liability that must have cost Shiro the ability to flee with his fellow paladins.

“Not easily.” Without another word, Lotor swept her up into his arms. The thought of protesting entered her mind weakly, but the vast need to rest overtook her. She tucked her head against his chest.

He turned to leave the cell. Shiro still stood next to the door, an intenseness in his posture clear even in the harsh chiaroscuro light. His hands were clenched tightly into fists. The bare skin of his flesh arm rippled with the effort, his muscles pulled so taught that Allura feared his tendons might snap.

“I owe you a thanks for taking care of the Princess,” Lotor said grandly.

Shiro turned his attention to Allura. “I am never leaving you behind again,” he stated. “Ever.”

Lotor let out a hollow chuckle. That wolf’s smile spread across his lips, but it never touched his eyes. They said something else. Something that Allura wasn’t sure she could recognize. “Your dedication is commendable, Black Paladin.” He drawled.

Hands still balled into fists, jaw still clenched, Shiro waited by the door, his eyes following Allura as they left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some terrible writer's block here, which should explain the pacing. And let me tell you, this ending was just about as good as I could do at the moment.


End file.
